Nothing major to really report. Life continues on the same as ever. The above normal temperatures should abate, at least temporarily. A cold front is pushing through.

Billy tried to engage me in conversation yesterday on the way back from 2nd yard. I just held up my hand and said “I have nothing to say to you.”

That didn’t sit well with Billy, as I heard him muttering “M@ther F#cker” behind me. Oh well. I won’t try to harm him, but I’ll be damned if he thinks I’m going to be his friend after this.

Anyway, off to read Atlas Shrugged. I’m in the center of the John Galt monologue. 29 pages to go before Ayn Rand settles back into the story.

Hell, it’s my 4th reading of it. I knew it was coming, and it is a philosophy book after all. ;)